Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the night, edentulous, nescient to its cosseting, cleansed me in its pit of frothing mouth. I have the torso of a sow under the guidance of disaffection as well as motley other unkind idolatries. so much for the fever from this star, calcified, the skull’s abeyant mind. my heart's a fountain in some...

madame ovaries packing me among the baggage of her flight I must abscond my carry ons to the port of my delay the devil cleft swarms her crotch my fingers break against her gate to measure up the bunker bone and drown upon her rosy floor she pops my cock the rigid thing sprays it pink 'pon watered e...

sweet images in here

O yeah I really like this.

Great ending statement

thank you mister rod. i was referred here from a long lost poet friend, sweet doreen peri.

my tongue’s a baleen whale to elicit sex and challenge males pushing through the murk of work not much else is speakable. a patch of vinaceous thread chokes the spool of radiance how the child is cloaked; his trenchant finger inculpates toward my gape of hanging bat in this tableaux vivants a presci...